Tomorrow’s Shadow

So now all we get is tomorrow.

While yesterday’s dreams unravel.

Ticking like a clock are we

ever able to grasp the moment?

Present in ourselves,

though hardly in another.

Tomorrow’s but a shadow

hurrying to catch up.

The Boys Who Left Town

There was no hope for us then

We were already too far gone

Gone from where? Neither could tell

But going gone, regardless.

No reason, No pain

I don’t mean to sound defeated

It just always hurt to try

Knowing there’s no meaning

In waiting out the night,

So I take my lashes willing

Under this starry sky

Knowing there’s no reason

Or pain to justify

A Simple Game

His thoughts were tailored by

The absence of himself

Her words sincere but from

The mind of someone else

Each clicked like a chess clock in the park

Played by strangers in the nude

It’s a simple game we complicate

When we react before we move

Her thoughts were tangled by

The silence in the room

His words unclear because

They sounded from a tomb

Each fit like a shadow in the dark

Exchanging others clothes

It’s a simple game we complicate

What we wanted with the truth—

I’m not a gambling man but I’ve played a hand or two

I’m not a fable or myth but I’ve read what sounded good

A tired man sits idle in the park asking questions with his eyes

I’m not that man in the park but what separates the two?—

It’s a simple game we complicate

When we react before we move

It’s a simple game we complicate

What we wanted with the truth

Your Cynical Smile

There’s something cynical in your smile

as if I rubbed off some and forgot to say,

that I’m not that kind of cynic.

And I feel no joy from any of this.

Aprils Fool

I wish I could have been

The air of reason

Forever calm

Before the storm

Instead of becoming

Those howling winds

Those howling winds

You knew before

But having been

Picked over plenty

Like a jukebox full

Of another’s score

And though I never

Sought to reign

Like Aprils Fool

I seem to pour

In Our Time.

Remember— oh brothers and sisters

that we are the philosophers of our time.

Us haggard poets of principle and measure,

no matter the plight must rise.

Through tears of understanding

with honest eyes do I

accept thy pleasure’s burden—

to see within our time.

His Revelation, Her Over-Time

With a white satin napkin

He wiped away his pride

That’s it my Lord, my Savior

What more have I to hide?

The pills induced his coma

His blood ran thin with wine

His revelation managed

By the nurse’s over-time

Untitled for Ariel & Jack

Oh, how the light

Always manages

To see through

The dark.